


we can set ourselves adrift

by orphan_account



Category: teen wolf - Fandom
Genre: Alternate Universe, F/M, M/M, Werewolf!Stiles, pseudo siblings!stallison
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-02-05
Updated: 2014-02-17
Packaged: 2018-01-11 08:19:05
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,552
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1170798
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stiles Stilinski's goal for the year is to make first string lacrosse, not piss off his teachers, and deal with the small problem of being in love with his foster sister. Dealing with the supernatural problems that came with being bitten by a werewolf was never part of the plan.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Jaw Dropping

Deputy John Stilinski tried not to groan as his radio crackled to life, just as he was turning his cruiser to head home. It had been a long day, and an extraordinarily trying one at that. There was a big part of him that wondered if he would ever earn the respect of his colleagues, if he would ever be anything but a rookie in their eyes. He had worked for the department since graduating community college with an associate’s degree, but it seemed that it would never quite be enough to appease the officers who remembered the troublemaker that John Stilinski had been. Rafael McCall had always been the worst of them, but there were whispers around the office that he would be offered a position with the feds sooner or later. Personally John was hoping for sooner.

  
Listening as the dispatcher gave the description and location, John hesitated for only a moment; he was a police officer after all, and the very nature of his job included doing the things that other people didn’t want to do.  
“This is Stilinski. I’m near the area; I’ll head over and check it out.”

  
Claudia was making meatballs tonight. John tried not to think about that too much as he made a sharp turn, heading towards the given location. He wasn’t really sure what he was supposed to be looking for – supposedly there had been a car crash of some sort. He expected it would be a quick mediation, and then he’d be off again, heading directly home for some of his wife’s legendary cooking, something he hadn’t had in a while, not since Claudia had started feeling poorly. He kept telling her that she should go to see a doctor, but she didn’t trust them, and kept reassuring him that it was nothing to worry about. Still, even Stiles had been getting nervous lately.

  
Smiling at the thought of his son, John absentmindedly brushed his fingers over the picture of his wife and son that he kept on his dashboard. His desk at the police department was tiny, and often flooded with papers, so there was no room for a personal touch. Besides, John was more often in the cruiser anyways and just having the picture with him made him feel better.

  
Pulling up to the wreck, John winced, but frowned. There were already fire trucks and ambulances surrounding the flaming, destroyed car, but no people – aside from the emergency assistance folks – in sight. Quickly putting his car in park, John hopped out and jogged over to the site.

  
“Mike, hey Mike, what’s going on here?” John quickly asked the paramedic who was stooped down, tying his shoelaces. The man simply shrugged, and glanced up at John.

  
“I have no idea. We were called about a car crash, said it wasn’t too bad, but when we got here the car looked like this, and there was no one around.”

John frowned.

  
“No one? You mean you guys don’t have anyone in the ambulance?”

  
Mike shook his head and shrugged. “There’s no one. We can’t figure out if it was a hit and run, or some prank gone wrong. But that’s your job, isn’t it?”

  
His words were delivered with a smirk, and John rolled his eyes. So much for being able to get out of here quickly. He would have to call Claudia and let her know he would be missing dinner, but for now he had to get to work.

  
There was something that just wasn’t right about it, and John couldn’t quite put his finger on what it was. It was a nice car, a fancy BMW. He highly doubted that it was some elaborate prank, but it didn’t ring of a hit and run either. There was no other car for one no glass or parts around the road indicating that there had even been another car. There was just something off about the whole thing, and it had the deputy frowning in confusion.  
Walking around the side of the car, John’s frown deepened. As he walked away from the sounds of the people surrounding the car, his ears picked up a sound, one that would be familiar to anyone who had parented a kid.

There was a child here.

  
Quickly grabbing his flashlight, John flicked it on, and began shining the beam of light around, looking for the source of the noise. Finally he saw her.

Immediately John’s heart broke for the poor girl. She had a halo of wild, dark curls around her face, and tear streaked cheeks. She was clutching tightly to a stuffed teddy bear, and she was trembling, shivering in the cold.

Not wanting to scare her, John inched forward slowly, crouching down so that he was eye level with the little girl who couldn’t have been older than Stiles.

“Hi there sweetheart. My name is Deputy John Stilinski, and I work for the police.” He pulled out his badge to show her, hoping that she would trust him. “Did your parents ever tell you anything about the police?” He asked gently.

Slowly, the girl nodded, her wide eyes fixated on John. “They said if I’m ever in trouble the police would help.” She whispered softly, and John sighed with relief. With his luck, he had been expecting someone who didn’t trust the police at all, just to make his job infinitely more difficult.

“What’s your name sweetie?”

Her lower lip trembling, the little girl began to cry quietly.

“A-Allison.”

John hated crying women. He had no idea how to deal with them, how to comfort them. He was terrible and awkward, and usually looked for any excuse to escape. Children though, that was a different matter. John had become an expert at dealing with Stiles’ tears when he suffered from nightmares, or when he hurt himself doing something stupid, or when he was so exhausted that he simply burst into tears. John could handle a crying

child.

“Hey, hey, don’t cry Allison. It’ll be okay, I promise. I’m going to take care of you, okay? I promise, I’ll take good care of you.”

*****************

She should be used to it by now. She didn’t know why she wasn’t; her brother had never really respected personal boundaries before, and to be fair, Allison never used to mind. But as she was lounging on her bed in nothing more than a towel, her hair still wet from her shower and dripping onto her pillow, the very last thing she expected to see was Stiles’ face in her window.

“Stiles!”

She wanted to shriek, but she knew that the Sheriff would come running if she did. Scrambling out of bed, she clutched the towel to her body tightly, and yanked the window open. “What the hell Stiles? Why can’t you just text me like a normal human being?”

Stiles just grinned at her, like she should already know the answer, and Allison rolled her eyes, because he was right. Stiles simply wasn’t a normal human being. She should have stopped expecting him to act like one a long time ago.

“What is it?” She asked, sounding more exasperated than angry, which – even though she was – she didn’t want Stiles to know. She wanted him to feel guilty, like he had pissed her off, and wouldn’t do it again lest he risk incurring her ire.

Of course they both knew he would do it again. Many, many times.

“Lighten up sis!” Allison tried her best not to wince at the word. Once upon a time she used to love whenever Stiles referred to her as his sister; now she hated it. “We’re going on an adventure.”

Allison immediately frowned and began shaking her head.

“No. Oh no. No way. No way in hell Stiles Stilinski, we are not going to go on whatever stupid adventure you have planned. My new year’s resolution is to not get grounded for at least two months, and I’m not screwing that up. You can forget about it, call Scott or something.”

Stiles pouted, and now okay, that was completely unfair. Why did he insist on doing this to her?

“Well I was going to call Scott too, but I thought that my favorite sister might want to help me out? C’mon Alli, whaddaya say? Wanna go help me find a body?”

Allison’s eyes widened, because she knew exactly what he was talking about. They had both overheard John Stilinski’s conversation about the body that had been found…only half. She knew exactly where this was going, and she wanted no part in it.

“No way Stiles, I am not helping you look for a body!” She hissed, crossing her arms over her chest. “That is so not happening. If you want to get killed, maimed, or grounded, then be my guest, but don’t ask me to be a part of it.”

She tried to tell herself that she felt better when she drew her curtains across her window. She told herself that Stiles would just get her in trouble, and her relationship with the sheriff was shaky at best. She told herself that she at least, would get a good night’s rest, and be happier for it, but something in her gut told her that she would regret this for years to come.

*****************

“So wait, you’re saying that a wolf bit you?”

“Yes Scott! Look, I know it doesn’t make any sense, but I’m telling you, I heard a wolf howling.”

Stiles’ best friend looked skeptical, and honestly Stiles couldn’t blame him. There weren’t wolves in California anymore, and he had been the one who had debunked Jackson’s terrible attempt at a sob story in eighth grade with that tidbit of knowledge after all. Still, he was confident in what he heard and saw, and he knew that it had been a wolf that had attacked him the previous night.

Now he was just trying to work out how he was still alive.

“Well whatever it was, you totally owe me man. I took the fall for you big time. I think your dad is more disappointed in me than my mom was.”

Stiles was a bad friend. He had to be, right? That was the only explanation for why he felt a little thrill of happiness shoot up his spine when he heard Scott say that his father was disappointed in him. Sometimes it just felt like his dad liked Scott better, and he shouldn’t be bitter, but there was a little tinge of it that colored Stiles’ attitude now and then.

“Yeah? What did you say?” Stiles asked, leaning against his locker, praying that Scott’s lie had been at least somewhat believable.

“I told him that you called me and told me to meet you in the woods and I got there and you called to say that Allison convinced you to stay at home.”

Stiles nodded approvingly and clapped Scott on the back. “Nice dude! You are quite honestly the best; I’ll take you to dinner or something sometime, fancy, high class dining.”

Scott instantly perked up.

“So Mexican?”

Stiles grinned widely and held out his fist to bump against Scott’s. “You know it!”

He watched in amusement as Scott’s eyebrows rose slightly.

“Hey speaking of Allison, your sister looks kind of hot today.”

“She’s not my sister.” The response was automatic, but then Stiles’ brain processed what his best friend had actually said, and he froze. That was not okay. That was not okay on so many levels that Stiles had to physically repress the oddest urge to pin Scott against the locker bank. That was Allison he was talking about, and Stiles hated it.

Scott – oblivious to Stiles’ sudden murderous inner rampage – had the audacity to shrug.

“Well whatever, she looks really hot. I mean she always does, but like today everyone is noticing it.”

There were so many things wrong with that statement it wasn’t even funny. Stiles’ mind was reeling. Scott thought Allison looked hot all the time? Other people thought Allison looked hot? Turning around to see what prompted Scott’s observation; Stiles had to struggle to keep his jaw from dropping.

Allison always looked nice, but today she had evidently decided to go for a new look. Her hair was down in soft waves around her shoulders, her normal wardrobe that was so similar to Stiles’ had been replaced with a nice jacket and a scarf, and apparently Scott was right; they weren’t the only ones who had noticed it.

As Lydia Martin zeroed in on Stiles’ adopted sister, his jaw really did drop. “L- w-what is Lydia doing talking to my sister – I mean to Allison?”

Scott gave Stiles a knowing gaze that he purposefully ignored. His relationship with Allison was complicated, and did not make for light conversation. It certainly wasn’t something to discuss early in the morning on the first day back. And especially not with Scott.

Stiles shook his head, wondering why the last thought had occurred to him. He had a moment of disorientation as a myriad of sights, sounds, and smells flooded his attention, but Scott’s casual shrug brought him back to the here and now.

"I dunno man. I mean beautiful people herd together right?”

He slammed his locker shut and began walking to class as Stiles’ nodded absentmindedly. But a few seconds later, his eyes widened and he yelped out indignantly.

“Did you just call my sister beautiful?”

*****************

Allison was dazed. There was no other way to describe it really; she didn’t know how she was supposed to feel. For years she had been all but ignored in school. The only times people paid her any attention were the ones she most wanted to forget. Suddenly though, Lydia Martin was handing her the golden ticket, and Allison was just left shocked and confused.

She had asked the sheriff if she could drive up to San Francisco over the break, to do some shopping. He had been initially reluctant, but eventually decided it was alright, as long as she went with a friend. She didn’t really feel guilty about lying to him and telling him she was going with a group, because she was already lying about why she wanted to visit in the first place.

While she had done some shopping there – only to cover her ass when her foster father wanted to see what she had purchased – her real intentions were completely different. She had been positive that she had found a link to her biological family, and it had lead straight to San Francisco. She knew that the sheriff – or Stiles for that matter – would never let her go, and especially not alone, but the contact she had found insisted she be alone.  
A

llison knew it was stupid. She was the foster child of the sheriff for crying out loud, she knew the dangers of a young girl chatting with someone online and arranging to meet them alone in a big city. It was stupid, and it sounded like just another doomed headline, another face on the side of milk cartons, but Allison felt right about it. She relied on her instincts, they were sharp and well developed, and nothing unnerved her about the situation.

In the end, she needn’t have worried. Her mysterious contact had never showed up, and since that day, the small circle next to argentsilver27 had remained gray. Allison assumed that it had all been a prank of some sort, but it had still left a bitter taste in her mouth, and the question of ‘why’ lingering on her lips.

At the last second, Allison had stopped by a hole in the wall boutique that had some fairly interesting clothes. Normally she stuck to multiple layers of simple shirts and plaid, often filching shirts from Stiles’ closet, so many times that the two had given up trying to sort out their laundry. However she did have a bit of a fashion sense, and though shopping had been only a cover story for the sheriff, she had enjoyed the limited time she spent perusing the racks of clothes.

Evidently Lydia Martin appreciated her efforts.

She was a nice girl. Nicer than Allison had assumed, but she suspected it was only because she had caught the redhead’s eye as someone who might share clothes and be a resource of sorts for her. Allison however, couldn’t commit to liking her fully, not just yet at any rate. Her adoptive brother had been head over heels in love with Lydia Martin since the third grade, and she had never so much as spared him a glance. Allison couldn’t help but feel a little resentful towards Lydia for that. Not only for hurting Stiles, but for being the object of his affections for so long.

But that wasn’t her fault.

Somehow Allison found herself following Lydia out to the lacrosse field. The redhead seemed happy to show Allison the way, and the brunette simply smiled politely, and bit her tongue to keep from telling Lydia that she had come to almost every practice since Stiles and Scott made the team. They were her only friends, and since lacrosse was important to them, she made it important to her.

“So I’m having this party, and I think you should totally come!”

Allison finally tuned in again, realizing that she was being rude to her new friend, but as soon as she did, she blinked in confusion and surprise. Was Lydia Martin actually inviting her to a party? She paused, waiting for the catch; things like this only happened in fairytales and crappy Disney channel movies.

Realizing that she had simply been staring at Lydia, open mouthed, as if she were seeing a creature from another planet, she quickly snapped her jaw shut and simply nodded her head, before she really realized what she was agreeing to. A party. Hosted by Lydia Martin.

“Yeah, yeah, that sounds really cool. A party. Yeah, it’ll be fun.”

Allison knew she was babbling, and she was sure the heat was rising to her cheeks in embarrassment, but there was nothing she could do to stop it. Lydia gave her a winning smile and returned her attention to the lacrosse practice, sharp eyes carefully scanning the field for her all star boyfriend. Allison clamped down on the urge to bury her face in her hands, and instead began scanning the bench for Stiles and Scott.

She frowned as she saw Scott’s familiar form hunched over his inhaler; that was nothing unusual, but Stiles wasn’t beside him. Instead Stiles was jogging to the goal. Allison groaned quietly, ignoring the look Lydia gave her. It seemed that day one, and already Coach Finstock was set on embarrassing his favorite person to pick on.

Maybe she wasn’t giving Stiles enough credit. She had faith in him, and though he had never been spectacular at lacrosse, she truly believed he could be good enough to make first string. She just didn’t know if that day was today.

Biting down on her lip, she watched nervously as the lacrosse team began lining up to chuck the ball at Stiles. Officially they were supposed to be hitting the net, but Allison knew better than anyone that Stiles could be annoying enough to make one want to chuck something hard at his head. The difference was she usually didn’t do it, and never to publicly humiliate him.

Forcing her eyes to stay open, Allison’s jaw dropped for the second time that day as Stiles caught the first ball with his lacrosse stick. And the second. And the third. And the fourth. And even the nasty looking toss Jackson Whittemore threw his way. In fact, Stiles caught every single throw without fail, shocking even Coach Finstock.

Allison wasn’t alone when she jumped up and cheered. Down on the field Scott was beside himself, flailing around in a Stiles-like manner, pausing every few seconds to take quick gulps from his inhaler. Allison was beaming proudly, hands clasped together, when Lydia Martin metaphorically tossed a bucket of ice water over her head.

“Who is that?”

Allison knew that look in Lydia’s eyes. Stiles had forced her through enough nature videos on feral cats – for reasons unknown to anyone but him – for her to recognize the sight of a predator spotting its prey. And as far as predators went, no one could match the beautiful redhead.

She swallowed uncomfortably, and glanced at Stiles again, seeing his happy but confused – almost suspicious – look. He caught her eye and grinned widely, but as gaze turned to the girl beside her, his eyes widened comically, and his smile grew even bigger. The lump in Allison’s throat grew larger, and she forced a smile as she looked back at Lydia.

“That’s Stiles Stilinski. My brother.”

*****************

Werewolf. It couldn’t be true. There was no way Stiles was a werewolf. Stuff like that just didn’t exist. It wasn’t real, it was made for crappy late night television, and whenever Hollywood decided that the newest trend that got girls all fired up was the supernatural shit for the umpteenth time. It wasn’t for losers like Stiles Stilinski with ADHD and no social life.

But the pieces added up. He was positive it had been a wolf that had howled, but wolves didn’t live in California anymore. And if there was one running about the Beacon Hills Preserve, the whole town would know about it; stuff like that never stayed quiet for long.

He had a nasty bite – yet he was alive. That part he was still trying to figure out, because if a wolf wanted him for dinner, then he would be digesting in a wolf’s stomach right now. He shouldn’t be alive, but he was, and the horrific proof of what had happened had vanished without a trace.

All of a sudden he was hearing, seeing, smelling, and seeing things he shouldn’t be able to. He wasn’t about to test out his sense of taste quite yet, because he had a healthy appetite and he liked it that way. He was a growing boy after all.

He was suddenly an overnight lacrosse star, and as amazing as that had felt, especially rubbing it into Jackson’s face when he caught the jock’s curved throw, and he knew that shouldn’t be possible. He knew better than anyone that one person couldn’t just gain badass reflexes overnight. He had spent enough nights wishing on stars that he could.

Then there was the borderline homicidal rage he had felt earlier in the day.

Sure, it had passed pretty quickly, and Allison usually elicited intense sorts of emotions from Stiles, but what he had felt hadn’t been human.  
Stiles wasn’t sure if he was human anymore.

He heard the door open and close from downstairs, and he immediately knew his sister was home. He could smell her, he could smell her strawberry and vanilla scented shampoo, and…wet dog?

As she climbed the stairs, Stiles scrambled to his doorframe, hurrying to meet her in the middle of the hallway. As he did, he watched her eyes widen adorably in surprise, before relaxing into something akin to fondness.

“Hey Allison, can I talk to you for a second?”

She cocked her head slightly to the side, and Stiles had to pause because damn it sometimes she was just too cute for her own good.

“Sure Stiles, what’s up?”

He was about to blurt out his suspicions, everything he had found, the occurrence the previous night in the woods, with the wolf, but his eyes caught up to his mind, and he registered Allison’s appearance, and his thoughts slammed to a screeching halt.

“Why are you soaking wet? And why are you wearing Scott’s shirt?”

He didn’t mean for the last question to come out sounding like an accusation, honestly it just slipped. But they never shared clothes with Scott. The three of them were best friends, but the clothes sharing had always been between just Stiles and Allison. Scott had always chalked it up to a ‘sibling’ thing, but Stiles always privately thought that it was a ‘StilesandAllison’ thing.

He really didn’t like seeing her in Scott’s shirt.

And he hated the tiny secret smile that blossomed on her face at the mention of Scott’s name.

“I accidentally hit a dog when I was driving.” She admitted quietly, and he saw her eyes fill up with tears that she brushed away angrily. “I drove straight to Scott, and he patched her up, but I didn’t grab my umbrella and it was raining, so he let me borrow his shirt.”

Stiles’ hands were fists at his side, and he felt the rage from earlier in the morning hit him again, but he did his best to fight it off, focusing on Allison. Scott had just been helping her out, he was a vet’s assistant, and it was his job. It wasn’t a big deal.

“Oh cool, yeah, I’m glad the dog’s okay.” Stiles said distractedly, almost forgetting what he wanted to talk to her about. Suddenly remembering something different, he flailed awkwardly for a moment, grateful that Allison was used to his habits by now.

“So I heard you got invited to Lydia’s party.” He tried to play it off as casual, however as soon as he saw the frown on Allison’s face, an internal freak out began. He shouldn’t have heard that, it wasn’t actually supposed to be possible. She was going to ask him how he knew that, and he was going to be left with his werewolf explanation.

But then she opened her mouth, and Stiles would have preferred that over the real reason for his frown.

“Yeah, I did. Scott already asked if I would go with him though, and I said yes. I’m sorry; I didn’t even think about you, I know how much you like her.”

Stiles was pretty sure it would have hurt less if Allison punched him in the face and then kicked him in the throat.

“Nah, no, no it’s cool, it’s all cool. Go with Scott, you two crazy kids have fun. It’ll be fun, yeah, loads of fun! Um I’m gonna – I’ve got to hit the sack, I’m pretty knackered.”

Now Allison’s frown was one of confusion, but Stiles quickly darted back into his room, before she could question him further. He collapsed on top of his bed, and dragged his hands down his face. Of course his best friend had asked out his adopted sister on a date, when Stiles was quite possibly hopelessly in love with her.

Only Stiles Stilinski could be bitten by a werewolf and have that be the least of his problems.


	2. Lunar Clock

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This has been unbeta'd. Any and all mistakes are my own. Anything recognizable belongs to Jeff Davis/MTV. Any 'missing scenes' either happened as they were depicted in Teen Wolf, or will be touched on later in the story. I hope you enjoy!

Allison felt awkward.

That was the only way to describe the evening so far, but she didn’t want to hurt Scott’s feelings. He had been nice to her, helping her with the dog, and when he blurted out the jumbled question, asking her to go as his date to Lydia’s party – apparently word had gotten out fast, because when she arrived home, Stiles knew too – Allison hadn’t the heart to say no. Scott had been one of her best friends since she was eight years old, and she didn’t want to jeopardize that friendship, but she also didn’t want to embarrass or reject him. Besides, it wasn’t like she would be able to take Stiles.

She had known it would be a bad idea though, potentially disastrous. She had been completely right. From the moment Scott pulled up in his mom’s car, the evening had been full of awkward silences and avoided eye contact. Allison had convinced herself that Scott hadn’t really asked her on a date, but the silence in the car stretched on, and the tension made Allison shift uncomfortably in the passenger seat.

“Can I turn on the radio?”

Under different circumstances she might be embarrassed that she had simply blurted out the words so quickly and awkwardly, but relief visibly passed over Scott’s face, and he bobbed his head up and down quickly in consent.

“Yeah, the radio, good idea. Um, I think we could listen to like…Lady Gaga or something?”

Allison fixed Scott with a blank stare.

“Lady Gaga?” Scott winced.

“Um yeah, well don’t…don’t girls like Lady Gaga?”

Allison heaved an exasperated sigh and rolled her eyes. “Scott. It’s me. Allison. Allison Myles? I’ve definitely met you before, but I don’t think you seem to remember me? My favorite color is green, I have brown hair, brown eyes, I love superheroes, and never once in my life have I liked a Lady Gaga song. Just turn it to our normal station you goof.”

Though it wasn’t the most eloquent way to phrase just what was on her mind. Allison was grateful she said it, for almost instantly, the tension seemed to evaporate, and Scott cracked a grin, turning the radio to the local alternative music station. His grip was still choking the steering wheel, but Allison was fairly sure that had more to do with the pressure of driving his mom’s car than the awkwardness of their situation. Soon enough the two of them had relaxed into their old habits, and by the time they pulled up to Lydia Martin’s house, they were bickering over their favorite superheroes.

“Look, I get it, Batman, Avengers, woohoo, but all I’m saying is that the Fantastic Four is seriously underrated! I mean come on Allison, they’ve got The Thing! Could you imagine if they did a sequel? Maybe even featuring the Avengers? Aw man, that would be so cool, and Jessica Alba fighting with Scarlett Johansson?”

Allison rolled her eyes. “Scott you are such a boy. For one, the Fantastic Four is underrated because they’re just a cheap knock off of the Avengers. And just think about that for a second; Chris Evans plays Johnny Storm, and Captain America. How would a sequel with the Avengers work?”

Scott opened his mouth, most likely to explain exactly how he thought it could work out, but by that point the pair of them had already reached the backyard where most people were, and whatever argument he had concocted died in his throat as they took in the scene before them.

“Whoa.”

“Whoa.” Allison agreed, looking around the place dubiously. She wasn’t surprised that Lydia had a pool; only that it was uncovered, and people were actually jumping in. There was a group of jocks pushing people in, but still, it was the middle of January. Sure, it was California, but it was still far too chilly to be considering a dip in the pool, at least in Allison’s opinion.

“I didn’t think parties like this actually existed in real life.” She admitted to Scott. She couldn’t say whether she was pleased or not that they did. When she had been a sixth grader, struggling through middle school, trying to figure out her niche in the jungle of the American public school system, trying to come to terms with the fact that she was destined to be ignored, branded a loser, she had only dreamed of these sorts of parties. She had curled up with Stiles in her Spiderman pajama pants and oversized t-shirt, and watched Disney sing-alongs on Friday nights, pretending that she didn’t want to be at whatever party was being hosted by whoever was coolest that particular week. Now that she was finally at the cool party, she just wanted to be at home watching a sing-along.

But she had told both Lydia and Scott that she would come, and she didn’t want to let either of them down, even the former. It surprised her that she wanted to uphold her agreement to Lydia, that she found herself genuinely liking the other girl. It was a bit of a bitter pill to swallow; it was easier from afar, when she knew that Stiles was over the moon for her, to cast her off, label her as another spoiled, snobby brat. And maybe spending an afternoon with her really didn’t give Allison good insight to her true character, but she liked Lydia. There was just something about her that intrigued Allison, and she had always been one to go with her instincts.

“So um, do you want to dance?”

Almost immediately the tension that had dissipated in the car, returned, and Allison blushed underneath Scott’s own reddened gaze. No, if she were being quite honest. She didn’t want to dance. She wanted to go home, because this had been an awful mistake and she wasn’t having fun, and dancing wouldn’t change that. No, she didn’t want to lead Scott on, or put the two of them in an even more awkward position – if that was possible. But she also didn’t want to hurt his feelings. She had said yes to him after all, and she supposed she should have expected that invitation would extend to things like dancing as well. Clearly she hadn’t thought this through, hadn’t even considered this to be a date. But Scott had, and until Allison could figure a way out of this, while being as considerate of Scott’s feelings as possible, she would put up with the awkwardness.

“Um, sure.”

If she had thought the car ride was bad, it was nothing compared to when Scott awkwardly wound his arms around her neck and began swaying back and forth, just shifting his hips slightly. Allison bit her lip, wondering whether she should correct his form, but then realizing she really didn’t want his arms around her waist. Still, that left her with nowhere to really put her arms but his neck, and the whole thing was just a mess of awkwardness.

She heaved a sigh, more audible than she had intended, and Scott smiled down at her, surprisingly sympathetic, before removing his arms, and shoving his hands in his pockets. “This really isn’t working, is it?” He asked softly, but Allison was relieved to see that there was no real hurt or disappointment in his expression.

“I’m sorry Scott.” She said with a sigh, her eyes pleading with him not to hate her. Thankfully he just grinned and playfully bumped her shoulder.

“It’s okay Allison. You’re still one of my best friends, right?” His expression was so hopeful, so eager, so like a puppy, that Allison couldn’t help but smile warmly, and wrap him in a tight hug.

“Of course Scottie. And you’re my best friend. Just don’t tell Stiles.”

Scott smirked at her, and for a second she could have sworn she saw a hint of Stiles in his expression, which immediately set her on edge.

“Yeah, I suppose it never would have really worked between us. We’re just good friends. And then there’s the whole you being in love with your brother bridge that we would have to cross eventually.”

Allison’s eyes widened and she instinctively punched Scott in the shoulder, hissing under her breath, “What are you talking about? Would you lower your voice you idiot, anyone could have heard you!”

Scott’s smirk simply grew, and it was clear as day the influence that Stiles had imprinted on him over the years.

“If you don’t know what I’m talking about, then why should I lower my voice?” He taunted, and Allison’s mouth opened and closed several times, giving her the appearance of a goldfish.

“B-because of the insinuations.” she stated lamely, hoping that throwing the SAT vocabulary word would throw him off.

No such luck.

“I’m not but this is Lydia Martin’s party. Gossip queen extraordinaire, you know of her? People might start to think that you’re telling the truth.”

Scott continued to smirk at her knowingly, but like a ginger angel summoned to Allison’s rescue, Lydia Martin herself appeared besides the pair.

“Having fun then?” She chirped happily, but the look in her eye was too sharp for the conversation to be purely casual. Allison began to take back her thought about Lydia coming to her rescue. Out of the fire and into the frying pan, she thought wryly, noting how apt the phrase was for the strawberry blonde.

“So Allison, where’s your brother? I thought I told you to invite him?” Allison immediately bristled, noting the way that Lydia eyed Scott critically. Never mind the fact that Allison really hated the interest Lydia had decided to suddenly bestow her brother with, now that he had apparently become some sort of lacrosse star, but she really didn’t like the way Lydia was looking at Scott, like he was beneath her or something.

“Um, I just thought you meant invite anyone, and so I brought _Scott_.” Allison said, purposely stressing his name, hoping that Lydia would pick up the hint. The redhead’s smile tightened slight, and Scott shuffled awkwardly next to her.

“I could go get him if you want?” He offered lamely, and Allison really wished she could somehow indiscreetly jump on his foot, or elbow him in the ribs. Lydia however smiled brightly at him and clasped her hands together.

“Perfect! You go get Stiles while Allison and I have a chat!” To his credit, Scott did at least look genuinely apologetic; however nothing really set Allison at ease, as she avoided the keen gaze Lydia was fixing her with. It was going to be a long night.

*****************

His hands were sliding across smooth, pale, flesh, his lips marking a trail of heated kisses along her slender neck. The soft moans that slid from her lips only fueled him further, causing his own grunts of contentment to join the sounds she was making. His eyes were blown wide with lust, and he met her gaze, seeing the teasing delight in her brown eyes, egging him on.

Within seconds he had pinned her against the wall, a low growl slipping from his lips as he nosed against the dip of her neck, biting and sucking the goose bump covered flesh. His mind could hardly keep up with what was actually happening, and he gasped against her skin, enjoying the sight of her head falling back against the wall, eyes closing, face blissful. He was making her feel like that, he was the one eliciting those noises from her.

Spurred on, he continued to bite and suck, until suddenly something changed. His teeth – sharp and pointed – sliced through her flesh, blood suddenly filling his mouth, and she screamed. It was loud and piercing; full of so much pain, and Stiles could only stare, through golden eyes, at the blood pouring from her neck, his fingernails sharpened to claws, digging into her sides. His mind was screaming at him to do something, but he could only stare in horror as Allison continued to scream.

“Stiles!”

He needed to help her, knew he needed to do something about the blood, needed to fix this mess somehow, but instead he just backed away slowly. This couldn’t be happening, he couldn’t have hurt her, and he would never hurt his sister like this.

“Stiles!”

It was Allison, his best friend, his rock, his…whatever they were. He couldn’t have done that. He was barely wrapping his mind around what he was, but there was no way he could have hurt her like that, it was Allison.

“Stiles wake up!”

With a typical, patented Stilinski flailing, Stiles fell out of bed, eyes wide, and mind panicking. His brain was racing to catch up with what was happening. He saw Scott standing above him, frowning in confusion and concern.

“Dude, are you okay?”

Stiles looked around the room, taking in the rumpled sheets on his bed, the lamp he had knocked over as he tumbled to the ground…had he really been asleep? That had to be the only explanation, because otherwise…

“Allison!” He blurted out, scrambling to his feet, not bothering to answer Scott’s question.

“Where is Allison?”

Scott frowned.

“She’s at Lydia’s party. We were just talking, and then Lydia Martin herself came up and started talking to us. She asked about you! She wanted you to be there, so I told her I would come get you!”

Stiles frowned, his heart rate suddenly spiking. “You left Allison there alone?” He practically growled, momentarily forgetting that just the thought of Allison and Scott together had almost caused him to flip a table earlier in the day.

Scott’s brow furrowed, clearly confused as to what the problem was.

“Yeah? But it’s cool, we figured out that we were never really going to work in the first place, and Lydia told me to come get you. Lydia Martin! Bro, I think you’ve got a chance with Lydia Martin!” Scott seemed genuinely excited for Stiles – which on some level, he appreciated. But there was something else behind his gaze, something almost searching, as if daring Stiles to say that his supposed crush on Lydia wasn’t exactly what it seemed. But Stiles had bigger problems than that to deal with.

“Scott, I’m a werewolf.”

Perhaps it was a testament to their friendship that Scott didn’t give Stiles a skeptical look and question his sanity. Maybe it said something about Scott himself that he just nodded slowly. Perhaps it was their longtime addiction to comic books, late night television, and anything considered off the beaten track by the mainstream popularity of society, that allowed Scott to just accept his words.

“Well I guess it makes sense. You’ve been acting weird the past few days, kind of like how Allison and my mom do once a month.”

Stiles gaped at his best friend. He didn’t know which was harder to wrap his head around, the fact that Scott could just accept it so casually, no questioning, no demanding proof that Stiles wasn’t crazy, or the fact that he had actually compared Stiles turning into a legendary hairy beast to… _that_.

“Y-you believe me?” He managed to ask weakly, and Scott just shrugged. “Well yeah man. I mean it’s you. You’re Stiles Stilinski; you’ve probably been up all night researching this. You wouldn’t say something like that unless you were absolutely sure.”

Stiles had to sit down on his bed, unsure whether or not he should give into the strange urge to hug Scott, or burst into tears first. Oh dear god, he _was_ turning into a teenage girl at… _that time._

“Thanks man.” He managed to choke out hoarsely. It wasn’t much, but from the way Scott smiled at him and patted his back, Stiles knew that he understood. There was a reason he loved his best friend.

“So how did it happen?” Stiles sighed and scrubbed a hand across his face wearily.

“Remember the night we went out searching for that body? And I told you I thought I got bitten by a wolf?” Realization dawned across Scott’s face.

“Wow. You think it was a werewolf that bit you?” Stiles nodded. “I’m pretty sure it was Derek Hale.”

Scott’s head snapped up, and the look on his face was one of horror. Stiles gave him a quizzical look, before explaining his reasoning.

“Yesterday, I went back to where the wolf bit me,”

He ignored the judgmental look Scott gave him.

“I told you, I found the other half of the body! But it wasn’t there, even though I’m positive that’s where I saw it the night I got bitten. But when I came back, Derek Hale was there. Remember him? His family was the one that all burned to death in a fire, the night we got Allison. Anyways he started talking about how I was trespassing, but I just got this feeling…I can’t explain it Scott, but Derek Hale is a werewolf too, and I’m pretty sure he’s the one that bit me.”

“Stiles…” Scott began slowly, and Stiles looked up at him sharply. After everything Stiles confessed to Scott that night, this was what he chose to doubt him over? But he realized that Scott was holding his cell phone with trembling hands, a nauseous look on his face. Slowly, he passed the mobile phone to Stiles, and he read the words on the blurry screen.

_From Allison: Hey thanks for ditching and not bothering to let me know! I swear, if you and Stiles went off to play video games or something without me, I will kick you two to Pluto and back! Don’t worry about me though, I caught a ride with Derek Hale ;P If you’re with Stiles, let him know I’ll be home soon._

*****************

“Start talking.”

Allison Myles was a smart girl, but she had been questioning that statement with increasing frequency lately. Just as she knew driving up to San Francisco to meet an anonymous person claiming to have some connection to her biological family was just about the stupidest thing she could do, she also knew that getting into a car alone with Derek Hale was foolish, and potentially life threatening.

Oddly enough, the two situations were somehow related.

Derek Hale simply fixed Allison with a glare, and she swallowed nervously. Still, she pressed on, eager for answers.

“How do you know argentsilver27? Who is he? How did you know I went to San Francisco? Is it you? Do you know my birth family?” He still didn’t answer, and she opened her mouth to shoot off more questions, but suddenly he was pulling over to the side of the road, throwing his gorgeous car into park, and swiveling around to glare at her in the passenger seat. For the first time, Allison was genuinely scared.

“You need to shut your mouth, and listen to me. Do you even know what you’re getting yourself into? You’re dancing on a minefield, and there aren’t always going to be people who are willing to help you. In fact, I can even think of a few who would happily throw you in the middle of it.”

Allison couldn’t help the soft, “Who?” that escaped her lips.

Derek didn’t answer.

She really wasn’t surprised.

“Don’t talk to her again. Don’t try to contact her. If she tries to contact you, go straight to your father. Stop trying to figure out who your biological family is, because you won’t like the answers. Maybe instead of looking for this dream family that you’ve built up in your mind, you should be more concerned about your real family. Especially your brother.”

And that, more than anything Derek Hale had said or done all night, was what terrified Allison the most.

*****************

Stiles groaned, and wearily climbed into the jeep as Scott slid over, shooting him a sympathetic look.

“Rough night?”

Stiles didn’t bother with a response. The two boys sat in an easy silence for several minutes, before Stiles finally slid his keys into the ignition and started the jeep.

“Allison home?”

The expression on Scott’s face was inscrutable – which immediately worried Stiles, as normally he could always read his best friend. Scott was an open book, especially to him. However he nodded slowly, putting his fears at ease.

“Yeah, she’s at home. She texted me as soon as she got home, freaking out about you or something. I just told her you were spending the night at my house.” Stiles slumped back against his seat and nodded grimly. He probably had a lot of explaining to do, or at least groveling.

“I should go apologize to her today. Do you mind if I take a nap at your house first though?” Stiles asked hopefully.

“Actually,” Scott began carefully, “Your dad called my mom. He asked if you could stay the whole weekend, apparently something came up that he needs to deal with.”

Stiles immediately frowned.

“Something came up? What is it? Is it a case? Why can’t I go home? What about Allison? Is she at home?”

Scott simply shrugged helplessly, though Stiles immediately got the feeling that his best friend knew more than he was letting on.

“Look man, your dad didn’t say why, he just asked if you could, and my mom said it was okay. Maybe Allison is spending the weekend with Lydia? Apparently they’re friends now.”

Stiles wasn’t happy, and he was pretty sure Scott was well aware of that. Nonetheless, he agreed to keep his mouth shut and do what his father wanted, which was to stay the weekend at Scott’s. Really, it wasn’t that hard, all things considered. They avoided their homework, and played video games and watched movies late into the night, but Stiles couldn’t ignore the fact that Scott would be tapping away at his phone every few minutes, texting Allison, though he always guiltily denied it when Stiles brought it up. He had said that the two of them decided they wouldn’t work as anything more than friends, but with each text Scott so obviously sent and received, Stiles felt his heart sink a little lower. He supposed he deserved it for how he had been acting towards Allison, or at least how it must have seemed to her. He actually had quite legitimate excuses, but, as much as he loved his foster sister, she was not Scott.

_“Hey Allison, I know I’ve been kind of weird lately, but I promise you, I’m okay! I was just bitten by a wolf – which I know, don’t live in California anymore – but it actually turns out that it was a werewolf. And now I’m one too. And the other night I ran out to the woods to find you because I thought Derek Hale had kidnapped you or something, and I found your jacket hanging from a tree branch, and then these hunters shot at me because apparently there are these people who make a living out of shooting teenage werewolves. Oh and according to him, Derek Hale and I are apparently ‘brothers’ now. Surprise!”_

Even in his head, the conversation sounded ludicrous.

Instead Stiles resigned himself to getting through the weekend, and comprising halfway decent sounding apologies in his head, all the way up to Monday morning at school.

He was in the middle of an internal debate on whether or not bringing flowers would have been too much, and if he had made a major malfunction by not doing so, when he finally caught sight of his sister. Ignoring the fact that she still managed to sort of take his breath away, Stiles made a beeline straight for Allison, and finally arrived in front of her.

Or rather he tripped in front of her, and completed it with his familiar flailing. Surprisingly enough, it made her giggle.

“You’re smiling!” Stiles exclaimed in shock, which only made Allison smile wider.

“Y-you’re not mad at me?”

Allison’s brow furrowed, and she tilted her head in confusion. It was unfairly adorable. “Why would I be mad at you Stiles?” Now it was Stiles’ turn to be thoroughly confused.

“Well I mean, um, you know, on the – the party night, I kind of just, up and disappeared?” Maybe it wasn’t actually as bad as he had made it out to be.

Allison just laughed and shook her head. “I’m not mad at you Stiles. You’ll never guess what happened!”

Stiles raised his eyebrows expectantly. However whatever he had been expecting was dead wrong.

"I found my biological parents!”

She was right. Stiles never would have guessed that.


End file.
